


Golden Days of Yore

by murdur



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 00:30:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/603797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdur/pseuds/murdur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki and Sif spend their first holiday together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Golden Days of Yore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [losechesters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/losechesters/gifts).



Loki was seated on the floor of Sif’s small one bedroom house, his back against her old sofa. Christmas music filled the small living room from the stereo on her mantle but he was focused on the wrapped present before him, meticulously pulling a pair of scissors against the silver ribbon to make it curl into elegant twists. He sighed, wondering why he was spending so much time on the appearance of the package, knowing Thor would care little about the wrapping but would doubtlessly be overjoyed with its contents: a giant metal hammer meant to tenderize the steaks he loved to grill so much. Loki shook his head at the thought of his brother wielding such a tool, thinking that it probably poised more of a danger to Thor than it would to his slabs of meat.

He set the package aside and glanced up at Sif, who was hanging colorful orbs on the tree he had helped her set up in the corner of her living room earlier that day. He couldn’t help but smile, seeing her face illuminated by the tiny colored lights wrapped around the pine. She was completely preoccupied with her task, a candy cane hanging out of her mouth as she sang along with her stereo.

“...is the carol that you’ll sing right within your heart.”

“Ugh,” Loki sighed exaggeratedly. “Honestly, woman.”

Sif halted her task to glare at him. “What? You don’t like my beautiful singing voice?”

“It’s lovely, absolutely stunning. However, I think that Christmas music should be banned from all radios, stores, and homes until December 24th.”

“Christmas Eve? Are you kidding me?” Sif pulled the peppermint candy from her mouth, dropping the stick to the floor in her indignation. “You only want two days for Christmas music?”

“Quite frankly I think I’m being rather generous.”

“It makes sense now why you’re so partial to the color green, you Grinch.”

“I _do_ look absolutely outstanding in green,” he retorted, face smug.

“No wait, wait. I’ve figured it out,” Sif placed her hands on her hips. “You’re rich, you hate Christmas, and despise all happiness in general. Why, you’re Ebenezer Scrooge himself!”

“Bah humbug,” he grinned.

Sif marched over to where he was seated, snaking a store bought bow off the floor and peeling the paper away from the back of it. She pressed the bright red bow against Loki’s forehead, sticking it to his amused face and sinking down to straddle his lap.

“Such a wonderful attitude. You are a joy to be around. Why, your very presence is a present.”

“Indeed, I believe my entire existence is a gift to be treasured,” he smirked, pulling her higher onto his lap as she draped her arms lazily about his neck.

“Lucky me,” Sif rolled her eyes. “You know,” she contemplated, hands sliding to the sides of his neck, “I’ve been a very good girl this year.”

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hmm,” she dipped her hands under the collar of his sweater. “I think I deserve to unwrap a present early.”

“I think that could be arranged,” he replied slyly.

She grinned, helping him pull his sweater off, knocking the bow from his forehead in the process. She wasted no time and pressed her mouth to his, consuming. Loki thought briefly how much he enjoyed the taste of peppermint on her lips before she pushed him to the floor.

**********

Loki didn’t even bother to knock before pushing the door to her house open, dropping his keys on the small table in the entryway. The smell of baked goods greeted him and he quickly shrugged out of his jacket and stepped out of his snowy shoes before making his way to her small kitchen.

“Are you actually using your oven or has there been a break in?” he called out. When he entered the kitchen he saw Sif at the stove, looking down at her cookie sheet, her shoulders slumped forward.

“Don’t laugh at me,” she said as he moved to her side. He followed her gaze, peering down at the pile of cookie dough that had seemed to melt together in an unappealing mass.

Loki tried, and almost succeeded to suppress his laughter. “Do your gingerbread men usually turn out so...abstract?”

She shot him a deadly look. “I told you not to laugh. This is the first time I’ve ever even attempted to bake cookies from scratch. Mother always kicked me out of the kitchen as a kid. All because of one incident with the electric mixer.”

At that, Loki snorted, pulling her into a hug.

“I’m hopeless,” she sighed dejectedly. “I just thought it would be nice to bring some cookies over to Thor and Jane’s for the Christmas party.”

“Not hopeless, just unpracticed." He stepped to her counter and reached for her mixing bowl. "May I?”

“Be my guest. I’d like to see you do better,” she smirked.

“Challenge accepted,” he bowed in her direction. With hardly a glance to the open recipe book laying on the counter, Loki speedily began to toss heaps of flour and spices into the bowl. Sif’s mouth fell open in surprise as she watched him work. In no time at all, he was smoothing the dough out on the counter with her rolling pin, grinning at her with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“How...how do you know how to _do_ that? You didn’t even look at the recipe!” She gazed at him in wonder, and slight suspicion.

He shrugged his shoulders, picking up the cookie cutter and laying the gingerbread men onto the empty pan. “I don’t know. You just pick it up.”

“No, that was magic.” She poked his arm, “You are a wizard.”

“It’s not sorcery, Sif,” he laughed then looked slightly embarrassed. “I’ve just...I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“Spill it, Odinson,” she demanded. “Did you go to culinary school before law school?”

A slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, “No, I just enjoyed spending time in the kitchen with my mother growing up.”

Sif lifted herself so she was sitting on the counter, watching as he slid the pan of cookies into the oven. “Are you telling me that Thor is also a secret chef?”

He walked towards her, settling between her thighs. “I doubt he even knows how to turn on an oven. It was just something Mother and I did together. It was sort of our thing.”

“How adorable. Little Loki, the homemaker,” she teased, pinching his cheek playfully.

“Hmph,” he snorted. His eyes searched her face. “How on earth did you manage to get flour on your forehead?” He lifted a hand to gently brush the powder away.

Reaching out to dip her hand into the flour bowl sitting next to her, Sif smacked her palm against Loki’s chest, leaving a stark-white handprint behind.

“How on earth did you get flour all over your shirt?” she asked with mock surprise. “I suppose you should just take it off.” Her hands snaked under the hem of his shirt, pulling it quickly over his head.

Once freed from the fabric, Loki’s own hand immediately dropped into the flour bowl before settling against Sif’s chest. Slowly, he caressed her breast through her shirt, the gentle pressure covering her top in the white powder. He tutted softly, “I guess your top will have to go as well. Such a shame.”

Sif rolled her eyes but indulged him. Lifting her arms above her head while Loki’s hands slid up her sides to remove the top, the soft fabric of her bra now exposed to him.

A devious smile graced Loki’s face. He extended his hand towards the counter once more but reached into a smaller bowl this time. Sif watched curiously as he lifted a pinch of powdered sugar between his thumb and forefinger. Loki deliberately sprinkled the powder across the top of her breasts before lowering his face to her chest. Slowly, he licked and kissed the sweetness from her skin, nuzzling along her collarbone, her cleavage.

Sif gasped, her head knocking back into her cupboards at the sensation of his warm mouth against her. Loki’s hands slid quickly around her back and released the clasps of her bra in one quick motion allowing him better access to fervently kiss her breasts.

Seizing his one hand in both of hers, Sif lifted it to her flushed face, eyeing the powdered sugar still clinging to the pad of his long finger. Loki raised his head to watch, suspicious. Holding his gaze, Sif took the finger into her mouth, gently sucking at the sweet taste, her tongue rolling against him. She grinned triumphantly to see Loki’s mouth drop open as he took in a sharp breath. The green of his eyes seemed to darken. She released his finger with a slight nip, a smile still clinging to her lips.

Surging forward, Loki pressed his hips more tightly against her, causing a low moan to drop from her lips. Sif’s back arched away from the counter and she moved to wrap her legs tighter about his waist, holding him to her. Loki dipped his wet finger into the powdered sugar once more. At the soft skin below her ear he pressed his finger and painted a long, curving line down her throat. Again he dropped his head forward. Sif moaned at the sensation of his tongue dragging against her skin, licking and kissing up her neck.

The tip of his sharp nose traced along the line of her jaw. He pulled his face back, one hand cupping her cheek. A quick sweep of his thumb brushed against her plump bottom lip before Sif seized his face in both of her hands, pulling him into a hungry kiss. He responded fervently and Sif felt a thrill of electricity run through her. Tongues sliding, their kiss was ravenous.

Strong hands suddenly gripped under her thighs, lifting her off the counter. Sif snaked her arms tight around Loki’s neck and pressed her naked chest to his. Not breaking the kiss, he staggered determinedly through the door frame, only knocking Sif’s back against the wall once. Loki set her down on the edge of her dining room table and his long form pressed her back against the solid wood.

Loki broke the kiss to stand upright and grip the waistband of her pants. Sif practically whined at the loss of contact, but eagerly lifted her hips to help him yank the tight jeans and panties from her body. Exposed to him, Loki dropped to his knees before her. He gripped under her knees, pulling her to the edge of the table before settling her legs over his shoulders. One hand involuntarily shot out to her side when he put his mouth on her, searching for something to hang on to. Her thrashing sent the poinsettia decorating her tabletop crashing to the floor. When his tongue slid against her, firm and warm, Sif couldn’t stop her hands from gripping the edge of the table above her head nor the sounds of encouragement and pleasure that dripped from her mouth. The muscles of her stomach danced and undulated erratically, making her hips rock up into him. He seemed fully concentrated, sliding a hand up her thighs and hips and to her breasts. Sif knew she wouldn’t last long. When she felt herself getting close, she quickly sat forward, pushing his head away from her. “Up,” she was breathless. “Loki, please.”

He stood quickly to undo the fastenings of his own pants before falling upon her once more. His mouth and hands seemed to be everywhere at once, mapping her pale skin before his lips found her mouth again. He moved over her, hard and fast and strong, bearing her down. Overwhelmed, Sif could do little besides hold on for dear life, panting against his mouth and moaning into his shoulder. Her hands clutched the strong arms that bracketed her body and her muscular legs wrapped around his waist, knees high.

Loki breathed out a litany against her skin. “Sif. Sif. _Sif._ ” When she felt her pleasure overtake her, Sif’s fingernails dug into the skin of his shoulder, her heels pressing him deeper. Rigid in her climax, she felt Loki's hips stutter, pressing impossibly tighter against her before his arms gave out and his weight fell upon her.

Loki lay there, resting his head against her still heaving chest, enjoying the feeling of her fingers running soothingly through his sweat damp hair. Their blissful moment did not last long however, soon broken by the shrill wailing of Sif’s smoke alarm. Loki cursed and stood quickly, clumsily pulling up his pants before rushing towards the kitchen doorway. Sif slid off the table and followed after him, retrieving her shirt off the floor and waving the light smoke away from her eyes. Reaching up, she opened the small latch on the kitchen fire alarm, pulling the batteries from the device. The obnoxious beeping immediately cut off, although she could still hear it ringing in her ears.

Turning towards the oven, she was greeted with the sight of Loki holding the forgotten pan of cookies, the tiny men charred black and smoking pathetically. Sif laughed, “Looks like you’re not the better cook after all!”

Loki frowned at the tray before straightening himself up to full height and dumping the contents unceremoniously into the nearby trash can. “We have better things to waste our time on. We can buy cookies from the damn store and put them in your cookie tin. No one will ever know our secret.”

“How utterly devious of you,” she laughed. “What do you say we order in and eat by the fire? Baking has left me utterly famished.”

**********

Snow was lightly falling, dusting the branches of the trees that loomed over the pair. Loki and Sif strolled leisurely through the park near his apartment, hand in hand. Sif had dragged him out after a long day at work, persuading him to join her on a walk. And so they found themselves admiring the white lights decorating the trees lining their path, illuminating their way in a soft glow against the evening dusk.

Armored against the chill in his elegant black peacoat with a green scarf wrapped about his neck, Loki found himself paying less attention to the little lights and instead spent his time admiring the face of the woman next to him. The deep red of her coat complemented the blush the cold had brought to her cheeks and a small absent-minded smile graced her lips as she gazed upon the strands of twinkling lights all around them.

A smile pulled at the corners of his own mouth as he examined the snow caught in her hair. The contrast of the fluffy white flakes against the dark spill of her hair was quite stunning. As if she felt his gaze upon her, Sif swiveled her head. Her unconscious smile now aimed at him, for him, spread even wider across her face. She was so beautiful. And she was his. It nearly took his breath away, sent him reeling.

If there was one thing that Loki had always prided himself on, what he was known for, was his confidence, his complete self assurance. But that was before he met her. She had a talent for making him feel terrifyingly off balance.

She had made his head spin, even during their first encounter that past summer. Thor had invited him to a sports bar after work and Loki had been reluctant to join his brother and fellow police officers, knowing that someone like himself wouldn't be overly welcomed. But after rejecting Thor’s invitations for weeks and weeks, he had finally given in and arrived at the bar, looking decidedly out of place in his designer suit with product in his hair.

Thor had shouted to him across the room, flagging him over to a full table already looking rowdy from the pitchers of beer. “Brother! Come and join us!”

Sitting down next to Thor, Loki had tried his best not to look miserable.

“Let me get you a drink. But first I wanted to introduce you- this is Sif, my partner out in the field. My right hand man, er, woman. I’d trust her with my life,” Thor pointed across Loki’s chest to the woman seated on his other side.

“Sif, this is my brother, Loki. Try not to scare him too much, eh?”

Loki turned towards his brother’s co-worker as Thor rose to buy Loki a drink. He looked her up and down quickly. She was dressed in a leather jacket over a white tank top with heavy boots and her dark hair pulled into a high ponytail.

“Wait, _the_ Loki Odinson? The infamous lawyer?” She scrutinized him for a moment.

“The one and only," he returned dryly. "Lovely to meet you.”

“They call you the Silvertongued Prince of the Courtroom, you know.”

“I’ll answer to Your Majesty, as well,” Loki had been surprised at her boldness. Usually people dropped the subject when they learned of his profession, or pretended not to know of the long list of possibly devious, but definitely rich clients he helped to walk free each day. Of course he knew of the nicknames people used behind his back but rarely, if ever, had anyone ever called him one to his face.

And she didn't stop there. She had continued to goad him about his profession, calling him a liar and a thief. A snake. Sneering that he took cases based on money, not on merit. He had mocked her naivety in return, her straightlaced, misguided worship of the law. She leaned forward at that.

“I’m not as well-behaved as you think,” she had challenged.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to just above a whisper, “And I am worse than you could _ever_ imagine.”

She had appraised him with hard eyes for a heartbeat and he’d assumed that was the end of that. The grin she had then flashed him nearly made his heart stop. It was thrilling and utterly confusing.

Later, he had found her laying in wait, pushing him against the wall in the hallway as he exited the men’s room. Without a word, she had kissed him. Aggressive and wild and terrifying and beautiful. Then before he could even form a coherent thought, she had slipped out of the back exit without a word. Bewildered, Loki had stumbled back to Thor, making his clumsy excuses to leave. And when he had reached into his pocket for his keys and found a napkin with a phone number scrawled across it, he could hardly hide the grin that pulled at his mouth. The urge to spar with her again had made his fingers itch in excitement.

It was his job, his lifestyle, to read others, to find their cracks and play into them. To attack, and manipulate. With Sif, he was always on the defensive. She never fell for his tricks. And she was the only person to ever leave him utterly speechless.

“What are you staring at, Silvertongue?” she asked, snapping him back to the present. He grinned at the old nickname.

“Nothing. Just admiring the view. And shouldn’t there be a ‘Prince’ somewhere in that title?” He squeezed her hand tighter and led her towards a nearby bench. Leaning down to brush the light layer of snow from the seat. He bowed before her, presenting the cleared area with a sweep of his arm. “M’lady.”

Sif tilted her head towards him and curtsied. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

They sat in silence, admiring the lights and observing the occasional person or couple who shuffled past, their collars turned up at the chill. After a few serene moments, Loki broke the silence and turned his body towards her.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” She looked puzzled.

“For dragging me out. For putting up with my bad moods. For putting up with _me_. I know I’m not always the easiest person to be around.”

“You’re not nearly as scary as you think you are,” she smiled.

“Sif,” he breathed softly. His chest felt tight. “You do know, how ardently I care for you?”

Her eyes searched his face briefly before she met his gaze with a grin and nodded.

He returned her smile and took one of her gloveless hands into his own. “Aren’t your hands cold?”

“No,” she shrugged, “but they will be.” She lifted a handful of snow off the bench next to her and threw it in his face with a laugh. Loki yelped in surprise, the cold fluff shocking him.

“Oh, you’re going to pay for that!”

“You’ll have to catch me first, Odinson.” Sif stood and sprinted from the trail, bounding through the fresh snow, heading towards a grouping of thick pine trees. Loki wiped his face and raced after her, his dark figure prowling. Sif leaned down quickly, pressing the heavy snow together in her bare hands before whipping around to face her pursuer.

Before he registered what she was doing, Sif flung the compacted snow at him. Loki barely had time to turn his head in an attempt to avoid the attack and the snowball hit him squarely on the side of his head, knocking the dark strands of his hair free from the style he had set it into. He staggered, trying to push the hair from his face and regain his balance.

Sif whooped in triumph. While he was momentarily distracted, she took the opportunity to silently dip around one of the large trees, pressing her back against the cold bark. When Loki righted himself, his bright eyes narrowed when he realized his prey was nowhere to be found.

Picking up on the game Loki silently stalked forward. Even in the growing darkness, following the rather obvious footprints in the fresh snow was not difficult. Circling to the opposite side of the tree, Loki pounced around the trunk with a growl.

Sif made to escape again but Loki’s quick hands seized her waist, tumbling them both to the ground. Loki pinned her body beneath him in the snow, his hands gripping her upper arms and his face looming over hers. Sif squirmed half heartedly, but made no real effort to escape.

“Assaulting a police officer is a serious offense, you know?”

“Yes, but I’m very well acquainted with the most talented lawyer in the entire state. I am confident I can prove that it was simply an act of self defense.”

“Oh please,” Sif laughed and Loki couldn’t help but smile, lifting one hand to brush a few stray locks of dark hair from her face. Her laughter faded as she looked up at him with warm eyes. He brushed the cold tip of his nose against hers.

“Kiss me,” she said softly.

“Forever,” he breathed out, and then his lips were upon hers. He kissed her soft, and sweet, and slow. Breaking apart, Sif’s eyes fluttered open with a sigh, snowflakes sticking to her eyelashes.

“Take me home, Loki. My hands are cold.” Loki shifted himself to her side and gathered her hands in his. Huffing a long, warm breath against her hands he lightly rubbed them with his own, making her fingers tingle.

“As you wish,” he murmured, releasing her hands and leaning in to plant a quick kiss to her lips again. When he pulled away, Sif shrieked, his hand unexpectedly pressing a handful of snow onto her cheek as he hopped up with laughter. “And now we’re even.”

**********

Sif stood in front of the large windows of Loki’s apartment that overlooked the wooded park, watching the fat flakes of snow fall in a slow dance, blanketing the world in white. A warm body pressed lightly against her back, one long arm snaking around her middle while the other pressed a warm mug of hot chocolate into her hand. “To warm your delicate fingers, My Lady,” his low voice murmured into her ear.

“Thank you, My Lord,” she returned the teasing formality. Sif accepted the aromatic drink, smiling as Loki planted soft kisses on her neck and the small expanse of exposed skin at her shoulder from where her overlarge sweater had slid aside. Warmth bloomed inside of her body and she leaned back into Loki’s chest, turning her head to grant him a quick kiss of thanks before returning her gaze to the falling snow. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“Yes,” he agreed, eyes still upon her face. “Breathtaking.”

Sipping the hot drink, Sif sighed happily. The room was lit only by the warm glow of the crackling fire Loki had constructed upon their return, laying their wet shoes and socks in front of the hearth. Sif was utterly enchanted by the glow the white snowfall seemed to exude.

“Come. Sit.” Loki grasped her free hand, pulling her across the room to his absurdly large sofa. He seated himself on the plush couch, pulling Sif down after him. Depositing her half-empty mug onto the low coffee table, Sif curled up next to him, tucking her cold feet under herself. Draping an arm around her shoulders, they fell back into comfortable silence.

Hypnotized by the soothing motion of the falling snow, the bright dance of the cozy fire, and the slow rise and fall of Loki’s solid chest at her back, Sif felt perfectly content. She reveled in the peace, her thoughts wandering aimlessly until the sound of soft snores interrupted the quiet.

Sif peered over her shoulder at Loki, his head resting against the back of the couch, mouth parted slightly. His face was smoothed blank, almost childlike in his sleep. She smiled, her own chest feeling suddenly tight. She lightly brushed her fingertips along his brow with a sigh, pushing a stray lock of hair back into place. He worked too hard and she swore he never actually slept. Deciding that she should allow him his slumber, Sif shifted her weight as noiselessly as possible, rising from the couch. Before she could take a step towards her boots, she felt long fingers wrap around her wrist.

“I should go, you need to rest,” she whispered. Turning to face the couch, she found his green eyes in the dim light. “Go back to sleep.”

“Stay. Please.” His voice was low, rough with sleep. “It’s far too dangerous to drive in weather like this.”

“Oh is that the reason?” Sif scoffed. “And as if I haven’t been driving in snow my entire life.”

Loki released her wrist and shifted his body down to lay more fully across the overlarge couch. “If you don’t lie back down, I’ll call my brother and alert him to a drunk driver on the road. You don’t want to spend the holidays behind bars Officer Tyrsdottir.”

“I highly doubt that a little schnapps in a mug of hot chocolate makes me ineligible to drive, you snake,” Sif glared at him but could hardly keep the amusement out of her voice.

Pulling the plush blanket that was draped across the back of the couch down upon himself, Loki held one side up in invitation.“Then I’ll find your handcuffs and lock you to my water heater,” he said confidently as his eyes slid shut once more. “Or my headboard.”

Sif smirked before settling back down onto the sofa and tucking herself under his arm, pressing her face to his chest. “I think I might like that.”

**********

When Loki entered Sif’s home dressed in one of his nice button-downs and slacks, he found Sif waiting near the door with her hands behind her back. She was obviously fighting to keep a smile off her face, and the twinkle in her eyes matched the silver sparkle of her party dress.

“Merry Christmas Eve. You look absolutely stunning.” Loki sighed, “And like you’re up to something.”

Sif’s grin spread and she brought her hands around to her front. A medium sized rectangular package wrapped in bright red paper was cradled in her hands. “It was always a tradition in my family to open a present on Christmas Eve. Here,” she insisted, pressing it into his hands.

Loki eyed her suspiciously, but obeyed. The red paper dropped to the floor and Loki held a black cloth case in his hands. Quickly pulling the zipper open, Loki gazed down at an assortment of heavy silver knives, all of various shapes, sizes, and ridges contained inside.

“I bought them from that fancy cooking shop downtown. Now you can do some cooking again, for fun. They’re supposed to stay sharp forever, or be virtually indestructible, or whatever.”

“They are gorgeous.” Loki lifted one of the blades in his hand, admiring the way it gleamed in the dancing light coming off of Sif’s Christmas tree, smiling at her thoughtful gift. “This is unexpected, quite the pleasant surprise. Thank you.”

“So if you’d like someone to test out all the fancy food you will now obviously be preparing, I selflessly volunteer.”

“You are ever thoughtful,“ Loki laughed, pulling her in for a kiss. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that we were exchanging gifts early. You’ll have to wait for your present.”

Sif and Loki arrived at Thor and Jane’s doorstep, their cookie tin full of store-bought gingerbread men, to find the quaint house already full. The evening was spent among family and friends, eating, drinking, laughing, and deliberately avoiding being caught under the mistletoe.

As the evening wore on, after mugs full of eggnog with brandy were passed out, and horribly off-key caroling was endured, Loki and Sif said their happy goodbyes and headed out into the snow.

Once they arrived at Loki’s apartment for the night, he shrugged out of his coat and quickly moved to light a small fire, keeping the lights low as Sif kicked off her bothersome heels. She wandered over to his fancy stereo system, switching the music on low. He stood and gathered her into his arms, one hand on her waist and the other holding her own, happily swaying and spinning in front of the fire. After a moment, Loki halted the dance and released her hand to pull a long box from inside his trouser pocket, presenting it to her.

Sif’s eyes widened in surprise. “I thought you said I’d have to wait for this.”

“Technically, this _is_ later.”

Sif tugged gently at the red ribbon tied around the box, tossing it to the side to open the lid.

Inside, nestled against dark green velvet was a fine chain strung with a silver charm of an elegant knot. It had four sharp points, resembling flower petals, or perhaps knife points. Sif admired it for a moment before raising her her eyes back to his face. He looked extra pale, almost nervous.

“It’s called a shield knot,” he practically whispered. “It’s an ancient symbol for protection. I thought maybe you could wear it when you’re out on patrol, saving lives and getting shot at.” Sif smiled. Her job was hardly ever quite that dangerous, and she always had Thor there to watch her back, but she appreciated the sentiment all the same, trailing one finger lightly over the gleaming metal. “I went to the best silversmith in town with the design. But if you don’t like it I’m sure I can-”

“It’s beautiful, Loki.” She cut him off with gentle reassurance. “Help me put it on?” He nodded once and she pressed the box back into his hands and turned, lifting her hair and exposing her neck. Nimble fingers pulled the delicate chain free and draped the cool metal against her skin before working the clasp closed. “Well?” Sif turned to face him again.

Loki didn’t say anything, instead he cupped her face and kissed her hard. Sif’s heart leapt to her throat, her fingers grasping the front of his shirt to hold him against her. His lips were voracious, the kiss needy. Sif was glad to reciprocate, trying her best to convey her appreciation.

Sif pulled back slightly, her forehead still resting against his brow. “I love it-”

“I love you,” his murmur cut in, a thumb brushing across her cheek. Realizing what he had just confessed, Loki froze in panic. His wide eyes searched her face. “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t, you don’t have to-”

“Shut up, you moron,” she muttered. His face crumpled slightly, dark brows knitting together and his eyes falling to the floor. She reached up to cup his face, forcing him to look at her. She held his gaze steady. “I love you too.”

She crashed her lips back against his, but the smiles on both of their faces made it hard to maintain the kiss for long. Loki wrapped his arms securely around her back, leading her in a slow dance. Sif draped her arms around his neck, following the simple steps that sent them turning in a lazy circle. Loki placed his lips near her ear, singing along to the familiar tune drifting from the stereo.

_”Here we are as in olden days,  
Happy golden days of yore.”_

Sif smiled, “I thought you didn’t like Christmas music, Scrooge.”

“Seeing as it _is_ Christmas Eve, this is perfectly allowable within the acceptable timeframe.” His voice dropped low again, a velvet caress against the shell of her ear.

_”Faithful friends who are dear to us  
Gather near to us once more.”_

She pulled closer, feeling his strong arms wrap tighter around her. His forehead rested against her temple.

_”Through the years we all will be together,  
If the Fates allow”_

Sif shivered at his words, hardly noticing that their dancing had slowed, now swaying gently in a static space. 

_”Hang a shining star upon the highest bough”_

Lifting his eyes towards the ceiling, Loki jutted his chin up in a quick motion. Sif curiously followed his gaze above their heads. Mistletoe.

_”And have yourself A merry little Christmas now.”_

Sif realized that they had stopped moving, staring into each other’s eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Sif,” he murmured tilting his head down.

“Merry Christmas, Loki,” she breathed against his lips before meeting him in a gentle kiss.


End file.
